


Birthday Belly

by Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me



Series: Destiel/ Cockles Shorts [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belly Kink, Chubby Dean, Domestic Fluff, Hugs, Kissing, Love, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 00:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3670863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me/pseuds/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's his birthday and he's miserable. It's his birthday and he's old and he's tired, and now ... he can't even see past his big, old gut. Dean doesn't think he likes this aging-thing very much. Nothing about it seems pleasant - but Cas has a different opinion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Belly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mnwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnwood/gifts).



> This was a quick piece I wrote for the incomparable deancasheadcanons (mnwood) once she reached 10,000 followers on tumblr. She loves chubby Dean ... and I think after writing this, so do I.

             Dean steps out of the shower, water still dripping off his steaming skin, and he looks down a moment; wondering when _exactly_ it happened. When did his feet disappear? He bends forward some more, straining his neck to catch a glimpse of his toes, peeking out just beyond the edge of his round belly. The man lets out a sigh. There used to be a time when he was nothing but washboard abs and deep V’s leading down towards his _fun bits_ —but now, he’s squishy and plump, and he’s not sure if he likes it. He pads over to the sink, wrapping his towel around his waist just before wiping the fog off the face of the mirror. His bleary reflection stares back at him—double chin, rounded cheeks, a gut that’s working hard to flop over the folds of the towel that’s keeping him decent. He sighs again.

_Well, this is what thirty nine looks like._

             A knock on the door makes him straighten out and suck in his stomach, taking another glance in the mirror just before yelling “Who is it?” to whoever is outside.

             Castiel is soon walking in, smiling big as his eyes rake over Dean’s body.

             “Just come on in, Cas” Dean says, still pouting over other things.

             The angel gives him a knowing smirk. “I think I will, thank you.” He wraps his arms around the man’s bare, damp waist—pulling him in close and giving his freshly cleaned skin a kiss.

             Dean takes a deep breath, finally letting it out with a whine.

             “What’s wrong? Not feeling your birthday this year?” Cas asks, peeking at him through the mirror.

             Dean looks at the blue eyes staring over his shoulder. “Am I _ever_ feeling it?”

             The angel smiles against his back. “No, I suppose not.”

             Dean let’s his eyes fall down towards the lower half of the clearing glass, finally seeing the rest of his body come into view. As the steam escapes, more pudge and rolls start to reveal themselves. “Cas?”

             The angel hums in response, his eyes now closed as he hugs tighter to Dean and rocks softly back and forth.

             “Have I gotten really fat?” Dean jumps a little as the blues burst wide behind him, fierce and full of disapproval.

             Castiel doesn’t respond.

             “ _I mean_ —I think I really started to let myself go.” Dean feels his body get whipped around, so quick, his towel loosens on his soft hips.

             “ _Dean Winchester_ , you say this as if it were a bad thing.”

             The man frowns at the confirmation to his question. “So, I _have_ then.”

             Castiel leans in, kissing him sweetly before pulling away and looking serious and determined once more. “Dean, you _have_ gained weight. You have gained a rounder mid-section and perhaps, your muscles aren’t quite as firm as they once were—but that in _no way_ is anything bad.”

             “Easy for you to say, you haven’t changed much since we met” Dean says, looking Castiel up and down, only noticing a tiny bulge pushing against the lower buttons of his shirt.

             “Would you care if I had?” Castiel asks, glaring hard at the half naked man in front of him.

             “No! Of course not” Dean spurts, feeling blindsided by such a ridiculous question.

             “Well, _I_ do not care that _you_ have. In fact, I am very happy that you are larger than you were in the beginning of our time together.”

             Dean cocks his head to the side—a habit he’s picked up after the years he has spent with his angel.

             Castiel sighs and raises his hands up Dean’s sides, rubbing his body softly – finally pulling himself in close so his breath could cool the last drop-covered bits of the man’s skin. “The fact that you have extra weight … the fact that you are softer now and ‘ _let yourself go’_ , shows me just _how_ comfortable you are. Just how _relaxed_ you are now. You are able to just sit and eat and not worry about the end of days. You will consume every pie I make for you with a happy, contented smile on your face—and every pound you put on, _well_ , that proves to me that _this_ is right. _We_ are right. We are right because you are now free to get as round and as soft as you want, and that is all you have in this world to worry about anymore.”

             Dean stares at his angel, feeling his body warm with the heat radiating off the one in front of him. There is so much he can call his _own_ now—so much he never thought he deserved. He looks down at his belly as it stretches out and pushes into the firm press of the one he loves. He smiles, finally drawing back to Castiel’s eyes. “I _guess …_ it is kinda nice not having to think about all that other crap all the time.”

             The angel leans back, giving him a surprised glare. “ _Kinda nice?”_

             Dean laughs, “Okay, _really nice._ It’s fucking great, Cas.”

             Castiel nods triumphantly, leaning in once more to kiss Dean’s cheek. Dean presses into his touch, finally allowing his hands to travel around and meet at the angel’s back. The two squeeze together, soaking up the familiar feeling of the other’s body, loving how _nothing else_ needs to be considered in moments like this.

             “Hey, Cas?”

             The angel buries his head into Dean’s neck, nuzzling his nose into the creases. “ _Hmm_?”

             “Do … do you think you can make another pie tonight?”

             The angel chuckles, pulling out of Dean’s hold and dropping down quickly to lay a sloppy kiss on the man’s chubby belly.

             Dean blushes as the involuntary giggle bursts from his lips—lightly shoving Castiel back as he settles. He looks below to the giant, blue eyes staring back at him, saying all the things that words never could. The blush returns as the grin crawls across his cheeks.

             Castiel mirrors the expression, just like he always had, just like he always will. “Of course, Dean. Cherry or apple?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please look around the rest of my Ao3 for more Destiel/ Cockles feels, angst, fluff and smut. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: castiel-left-his-mark-on-me


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